


Needful

by prowlish



Series: commissions [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Denial, Introspection, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 18:07:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4110172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prowlish/pseuds/prowlish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's been a change, and it bothers Prowl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Graveyard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graveyard/gifts).



> Second one for Graveyard! Thanks so much!

The move to end up in his berth rather than over his desk had become far more frequent than Prowl cared to think about -- but his mind tallied the statistics anyway. Ironically, this was a relief from the persistent numbers and constant calculations: Springer’s strong hands steadying the downward grind of his hips, his fingers leaving impressions in the metal that drove away the numbers and obsessions with data.

No, all that occupied him was pleasure, singing through his circuits at every press of his hips down, grinding Springer’s spike against the topmost nodes in his valve and stretching his calipers around its girth. Not much longer now. Prowl’s doorwings trembled, his helm rocking back as he panted with effort.

Release was slow and sweet, as the rest of the interface had been, leaving Prowl quaking to his core. As he bent forward, resting his hands on Springer’s chestplates, Prowl could feel the other mech shudder beneath his hands, and the heat of his transfluid, hot even in Prowl’s terribly hot valve. He shivered again as their combined fluids trickled down his inner thighs, but that was nothing compared to when Springer lifted him off his spike. Then it gushed, but what made Prowl gasp was the almost sweet kiss that Springer pulled him into. And yet -- Prowl returned it in kind, driven by an internal compulsion that he couldn’t (and didn’t care to) identify. 

And just as he was wondering -- yes. Springer settled onto the berth, pulling him close in an embrace, his helm tucked neatly between Prowl’s doorwings. It was another of those things, that Springer so nimbly worked his way around the appendages that most lovers had cursed.

Not that they were lovers. Not really. Prowl knew that when they awoke from the little nap, Springer would gently clean them both before leaving. Kindness, yes. Courtesy. But not… affection.

The analytical mind was back and determined not to let him rest like Springer -- the mech was already recharging! All he could think about was every piece of this puzzle, because his processors loved to fiddle with the pieces no matter how sick to his spark he was of thinking about it at all. 

Their interfacing used to be rough -- even violent -- but still satisfying in a visceral way. It bled off tension, anyway, which was what they’d been after. And now…

Prowl didn’t remember why, but they’d traded the spontaneous, angry frags in his office for the more certain privacy of his quarters… and a more tender touch. Lovers they were not, Prowl insisted, but some of their interfacing could be called love-making by some. With their pace sensual and slow more often than fast and hard, their hands soft and gentle rather than hungry and demanding… it could be an apt description for a romantic type.

The devil was in the details, or so they said on Earth, and the details that preoccupied him were the soft, tender caresses of Springer’s hands lately, how delicately erotic the touches to his doorwings were…

Prowl felt the calipers in his valve flex at these thoughts and he could’ve laughed. Was he going to get all hot and ready again with such simple thoughts?

Scrap. He had better get his nap in while he could. At this rate, he would need it. There was no time to decide what action, if any, should be made here. Primus knew his processors would love to pick up their new obsession.

For now, he forced them quiet with some manual recharge protocols. It wasn’t as though the ‘facing were bad, he thought sleepily, as he settled more comfortably in Springer’s warm embrace. This all still fulfilled a need, after all.

Which one remained to be seen.

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on [@prowlish](https://twitter.com/prowlish) on twitter!! :)


End file.
